


strain

by beemotionpicture



Series: bee's Stephen Strange Bingo 2019 [1]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Disordered Eating, M/M, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 16:14:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18347156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beemotionpicture/pseuds/beemotionpicture
Summary: The magic is taking its toll on him.—Stephen gets sick. Tony confronts him.





	strain

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Stephen Strange Bingo 2019 square N5: Bloody Nose.
> 
> From tumblr:
> 
> Anonymous said: In the comics, magic takes a toll on Stephen's body and appetite. What about Tony walking into the bathroom to find Stephen vomiting and him revealing how painful magic can be sometimes?
> 
> Anonymous said: Stephen is sick (or motion sick) and doesn't tell Tony.
> 
> —
> 
> Oh my gOD this is one of my favorite things. One of my bingo fills was originally going to be about this, but I tweaked it slightly so it turned out entirely different. BUT THAT’S OKAY because now I get to do this!

It’s taking a toll on him.

He bruises so easily now. His nails have become brittle, while his hands tremble more than ever. He is so unbearably  _ cold _ . Whenever he feels faint, he checks for a pulse just to make sure. It takes him four, five tries to find one—and that, more than anything tells him that something is wrong.

But the worst is the hunger.

It consumes him. His mind is strong as ever— _ no one can take Stephen’s will away from him,  _ no one _ — _ but his body…it tears itself from the inside out.

Stephen pays none of this any mind. It’s a small price to pay for the good that he does.

Tony is asking him a question.

_ Doc, are you…Stephen? Wait— _

He doesn’t realize he’s stood from the table. Thankfully, no one else but Tony seems to have noticed.

He doesn’t portal from the dining room because he doesn’t have the energy. Instead, he slips away towards the exit, cloak the only thing keeping him upright. He blinks the spots away from his vision and manages to stay upright long enough to reach the bathroom.

He feels his throat  _ burn  _ as his stomach contracts and he expels the meager amount of food he’d just eaten into the toilet. Soon, there’s nothing to throw up but bile, and after that he heaves and heaves until it feels as though there’s nothing of himself left.

The cold, hard tile is unforgiving under his knees as he shivers, clutching the bowl, holding on for his life.

The cloak wraps around him and he can pretend it’s almost enough. Even the cloak has been looking a little gray around the edges, lately. Stephen knows it has been trying to lend him energy; he doesn’t have the heart to tell it that the magic is only making him _ worse _ . It cares for him.

Stephen will give it to Wong when he dies. They’ll take care of each other.

 

The door slams open. Stephen closes his eyes tiredly.

“Stephen, what—” Tony stops, voice sounding strangled. Stephen can’t see him, but he must come closer because suddenly Tony is in his space, taking his shoulders  and shaking him gently. He curses when Stephen doesn’t respond immediately.

“I’m fine,” he says, trying to pull away.

Tony holds him by the back of the neck. “Stop. Stop lying to me and just tell me what’s going on.”

“Nothing is—”

“Bullshit,” Tony says, voice hard as steel.

That makes Stephen open his eyes.

Where he expects to see anger in Tony’s gaze, instead he finds worry. Tony’s eyes roam his face, and Stephen wonders what he must see there—the gauntness of his face, his pallid complexion? His pale, chapped lips, or the bags under his eyes?

He doesn’t know. Nor does he find out, because he sees Tony’s eyes widen before he suddenly feels the wetness. Stephen raises a hand and wipes the blood dripping from his nose away, leaving a bright red stain on his sleeve and a smear on his face.

_ Then _ comes the fury.

“Stephen,” Tony says darkly. His hand grips the back of Stephen’s neck roughly, and Stephen finds he can’t look away from him. “I’m gonna say this one more time because you don’t seem to get it. You don’t get to hide from me, ever.”

Stephen’s mouth goes dry.

This is the man who stared down Thanos and won. This is the man who would tear the world apart for him. The man who fractured reality to bring Stephen back.

“Now. What’s going on?”

Stephen is the most powerful sorcerer in the multiverse, and he can’t help but falter in the face of Tony Stark.

 

He tells him everything.

The magic that has been keeping everyone safe, the magic that has saved the lives of the Avengers on more than one occasion—this very same magic is what’s killing Stephen.

The cloak trembles around him. It’s frightened, he realizes. It now knows that it’s been  _ hurting _ him, and so Stephen runs a hand gently over the fabric, trying to soothe its pain.

Tony is quiet throughout the whole explanation.

The fire is no longer in his eyes, his expression unreadable. He less looks at Stephen and more looks  _ through _ him, as though he cannot believe what he’d just heard.

Stephen can imagine all the words that will say.

_ You goddamn idiot. _

_ Why didn’t you tell me? _

_ Stop trying to kill yourself! _

Instead, what comes out of his lips is, “Let me help you.”

Stephen laughs breathlessly, utterly surprised. Tony looks grave, but a smile finds its way onto Stephen’s face.

They’d get through this. Together.

Just as he passes out in Tony’s arms, he murmurs, “I love you.”


End file.
